


parting shot

by lupinely



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, i just think they should have kissed one time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupinely/pseuds/lupinely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve always preferred women, you know.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Isabella said. “Because I’ve never seen you with one. You surround yourself with men.”</p>
<p>“That’s hardly my fault,” Madalena said, stung. “You’ll notice that we’re the only two main female characters in this storyline, after all. That makes it rather difficult to meet women."</p>
            </blockquote>





	parting shot

 

 

 

 

 

It was a full year before Madalena returned, and not through any effort at all by Gareth and Sid, who had shown up several months ago, exhausted, empty-handed, and irritated beyond belief. Isabella had not spoken with Gareth herself, but Sid visited her and Galavant several times and told them most—though she can tell not all—of what he and Gareth had done for the months they had been away.

“I thought you’d have a kid or two by now.” Sid looked around their small, warm cottage, which was empty save for her and Galavant.

“It’s only been a year, Sid,” Galavant said; “I think maybe there’s some things you don’t know about childbearing,” and Isabella had to hide a smile behind her hand. Poor Sid. Hopefully he would meet someone at the Enchanted Forest one of these days. Isabella often thought of their time together, the three of them—herself, Galavant, and Sid—after she had first traveled to find Galavant and bring him to Valencia. It was a fond, warm memory, one that she cherished. She missed having the three of them together. But Isabella was happy for Sid, and he for her and Galavant.

A cottage by the seaside. She had dreamed of it for so long while imprisoned in her cell in Hortensia. And Galavant was happy. She had worried about his ability to settle down, whether he would be bored despite all that he had said about no longer caring about being the hero: but he seemed even more content than she was.

“You know,” he told her one night as they lay beside each other, his arms around her; “if you wanted to work, you know, get a job, I’d be fine being a stay-at-home dad. I’m progressive that way, after all....”

She snorted and kissed him and thought nothing of it until later, when she was standing at the sink in their kitchen, staring out the window towards the sea, and realized she was fundamentally, irrevocably _bored._

Madalena was probably having a wonderful time right now, learning dark magic and all the twisted secrets of the universe—and Isabella couldn’t even believe she had thought that. She had not thought about Madalena in weeks.

And then, of course, a year to the day after her disappearance, Madalena returned. And she did not go to Gareth first, or try to take back the throne of Valencia; instead she showed up at the seaside cottage, knocked on the door, and while Isabella stood staring at her, dumbstruck, asked, “Is Galavant here?”

Isabella’s mouth worked for a moment, soundlessly, and then she said, “No, he’s out.”

“Bother.” Madalena slumped grumpily against the doorframe. She looked essentially unchanged, though there was a strange glowing amulet around her neck and a silver circlet upon her dark hair. Isabella did not know what she expected—red glowing eyes? A demon familiar? Scales and claws?

Madalena eyed her. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s polite.”

Isabella couldn’t argue with that, so she stepped aside to let Madalena sweep inside, her head held high and her dark eyes probing every corner of the cottage. The dirt-swept floor, the clean bright windows, the low ceiling. Isabella was certain that Madalena found no beauty in its simplicity.

Sure enough—“You’re telling me you actually _live_ in this hovel?”

“Nice to see you, too, Madalena,” Isabella said under her breath, and she shut the door.

 

-

 

“I thought you would have like four kids by now,” Madalena said.

“Oh, my god,” Isabella said. “Do you or Sid know anything about children?”

“Not really. Thank god.” Madalena looked closely at Isabella’s stomach. “Nothing kicking in there yet?”

“You know, Galavant isn’t going to be home for a while,” Isabella said. “You should probably come back tomorrow, he’ll be here then. Or better yet, don’t come back. Why are you even here?”

“I have to ask him something.” Madalena looked hesitant for a moment, then shook her head. “Yes, I’ll come back. I can only spend too long among abject poverty before I starting getting the heebie-jeebies.”

“Thanks,” Isabella said drily as Madalena left. “I’ll be sure to tell Galavant you stopped by.”

But she didn’t. She did not know what stopped her—the complete strangeness of the encounter? The fact that Madalena had shown up after an entire year without a single word about where she had been or what she had done, acting as if nothing were wrong? Odd, odd. Isabella did not want to think about it anymore than she had to. When Galavant came home that night, she kissed him on the cheek and watched as he prepared dinner, stealing glances every now and then of the glittering sea through the window.

Galavant left early the next morning to visit Sid, which Isabella had forgotten he had planned to do, and so when Madalena showed up later, Isabella sighed mightily and leaned against the fence outside, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She had been on her knees in the garden, and Madalena approached her, a look of utmost disgust on her face as she daintily picked her way around the chickens and pigs.

“Are you kidding me?” were the first words out of her mouth. “This is disgusting. How can you live like this?”

“It’s nice,” Isabella said. “Galavant isn’t here again. I forgot he was going to see Sid. You can find him there.”

“Drat.” Madalena sat down heavily on a bale of hay, and then shot upright once more. “Disgusting.” She looked at Isabella. “Are you _gardening?”_

“Obviously.”

Madalena shuddered. “You have no idea how glad I am that I don’t have to live like this anymore.”

“You make it pretty plain.”

Madalena’s smile was not cruel, but it was not exactly pleasant, either. “So how is it? Living here, married to Galavant. There was a time I thought this would be my life, you know.”

That stung. Isabella, nobly, ignored it. “It’s wonderful. And we are trying to get pregnant—it should be any day now.”

Madalena slapped her hands over her ears. “God, no, I don’t want to hear about any of that. What on earth is this ‘we’ business, anyway? The last time I checked, you were the one who was going to get fat and moody and miserable, not Galavant.”

“Oh, buzz off. You just don’t understand. I want children.”

“Oh, yes, seven of them, I’ve heard. Don’t you think that’s excessive?”

“Not considering the infant mortality rate of the Middle Ages,” Isabella shot back.

“Touché.” Madalena tilted her head and studied Isabella, who went back to weeding the garden. “You never answered my question. What is it like being Mrs. Gary Galavant?”

“I kept my last name,” Isabella said.

“Oh, really? Good for you. Gal really is a modern thirteenth century man.”

The familiarity with which Madalena called him ‘Gal’ grated. Isabella did her best to ignore it. “Speaking of _Gal,_ I don’t know when he’ll be back. You might have to come back later this week. Or never.”

“Getting rid of me so soon? That’s not very hospitable.”

“You attacked my cousin’s kingdom with _my_ kingdom’s army.”

“Oh, come on, Izzy,” Madalena said; “that’s all in the past! Ancient history, you might say.”

“Don’t call me that,” Isabella said; “or I’ll call you Mads.”

“All right, all right.” Madalena looked out around the garden, then sighed. As she stood there, Isabella thought, just for a moment, that perhaps she could see what it was Galavant had once seen in her. Madalena was tall, dark of hair and eye, with strong, elegant features. And she knew, unabashedly, unashamedly, who she was. That was an attractive quality...one that Isabella felt perhaps they shared.

She shook her head. Before she knew what she was saying, she asked, “Do you want to stay for tea?”

Madalena’s expression teetered between amused and disgusted as she glanced at the pigs by the cottage door. “I suppose,” she said, and Isabella led her inside.

 

-

 

“You know,” Isabella said, “if you have a question for Galavant, you can ask me. I don’t know when you’ll catch him at a free moment.”

It was not an expression of selflessness or of any desire to help Madalena—not really. If Isabella could answer Madalena’s question, then Madalena would not show up at their cottage anymore, and she and Galavant could live in peace, and Galavant would not even have to know that Madalena was back.

Madalena looked at her shrewdly. “It’s a boy question. I don’t know that you’ll be able to help.”

“And Galavant would?”

“He knows me,” Madalena said simply, and Isabella could not argue with that.

“Try me,” she said instead, and Madalena studied her again, intently, before sighing.

“Oh, what the hell,” she said. “Look. So I’ve been gone for a year learning the secrets of the dark arts to gain the infinite powers of the universe, right?”

“Right.”

“And Gareth didn’t want me to go.”

“You were actually serious about him? Wow, I thought that was like, a joke.”

“Rude,” Madalena said. “Fair, but very rude...yes, I was serious about him. For the first time, it felt like....” She sighed again. “Oh, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“Well,” Madalena said, slowly, “you see, we never...did it.”

Isabella stared at him. “You never made love with him?”

“Shh! Lord, no. I’ve never done  _that_  with anyone. We never messed around, is what I’m saying. And I’m certain that if we do, he’ll get bored of me like everyone else does and leave me.”

“Well, that’s assuming he still wants to—how did you put it?—mess around with you.”

“He does,” Madalena said.

Well, that was probably true. “I’m pretty sure a guy getting bored of you has never been your relationship issue in the past, Madalena. Your last three relationships all ended because _you_ got bored of _them.”_

“What? Name one.”

“Galavant. Richard. Steven?”

Madalena looked at her blankly.

“The jester?”

“Oh, right.” Madalena was silent for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am the one who gets bored.”

“You and me both,” Isabella muttered under her breath, and then, astonished, she slapped her hand over her open mouth.

Madalena’s expression went from confused to ecstatic and then to delighted. “Oh, my god,” she said. “You _are_ bored, aren’t you?”

Her smile, wide and smug and also quite pretty, was more than Isabella could take. “I’m not _bored_. It’s just harder for me to adjust than it is for Galavant, and I haven’t—he only has like two positions when we—”

“If you say ‘make love,’ I’m going to smack you,” Madalena said. “You have to push him to be more creative. I could give you pointers.”

“Please don’t.” Isabella put her hand over her eyes. “And don’t tell Galavant I said any of this.”

Madalena made a motion as if she were sealing her lips shut, but her eyes were gleaming, and she still looked outrageously superior.

“This is what I want,” Isabella said. And she was sure of that, still. “But I just think, sometimes....”

“It’s not all that you want,” Madalena said, and Isabella nodded. “That’s understandable, you know. You were a warrior princess, and now you spend your time cleaning up after,” she made a disgusted face, _“farm animals.”_

It did, when put that way, seem a little strange.

Isabella tried to change the subject. “I’m sure things will be all right with Gareth,” she said. “You seem to really like him.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Madalena sounded disturbed. “That’s probably the worst part of all.”

 

-

 

When Galavant returned later, Madalena was gone, and Isabella was peeling potatoes. When he stepped through the door, Galavant froze, looked around, and sniffed the air suspiciously. “She was here.”

“What?”

“Madalena. Wasn’t she?”

“I—yes,” Isabella said, bemused. “How can you know that?”

He tapped his temple. “I’ve got a sixth sense.”

“For knowing when your ex is around?”

“For knowing when evil has been nearby. It’s a hero thing.”

“Oh.” Isabella peeled another potato. She didn’t think Madalena was evil. But then again, Madalena had not said anything about the dark magic that she had learned, after all.

“What did she want?” Galavant was taking off his boots, watching Isabella.

“To ask me something,” Isabella said. “I helped her with it. She won’t be back.” She hoped. Though she could not stop thinking about how tall Madalena was, how seemly, how even her cruelty held an attraction to it, because it was so anathema to Isabella.

“Strange,” Galavant said. “Did she ask about me?”

Isabella peeled the potato more forcefully. “No,” she said; “not at all.”

Isabella tried very hard not to think about the delight in Madalena’s eyes as she said, gleefully, “you _are_ bored!” She had never spent much time with Madalena before; their plotlines had not crossed much. A shame...there was far more to Madalena than what met the eye.

And Isabella wasn’t bored. It was just—you go from leading armies into battle to peeling potatoes over the kitchen sink, and there was an adjustment period you had to endure. That was just the way it was.

 

-

 

Isabella went into town later that week to visit Sid and see whether news had spread about Madalena’s return. There was not a word about it; as far as everyone else was aware, Madalena was still missing.

Strange, Isabella thought, and decided not to think about it.

When she got back to her cottage later, her arms loaded with crops she had traded with Sid, Madalena was there, sitting at the kitchen table, looking bored and lonely. “Finally,” she said; “you’ve been gone for hours.”

“Um, hi?” Isabella said. “How did you get in here? The door was locked.”

Madalena waggled her fingers, and the latch on the door fell closed with a trail of red light following behind it. “I didn’t spend a year learning dark magic for nothing, darling.”

Isabella did not know where to start with that statement, so she started putting down the tomatoes and leeks she was holding onto the table before Madalena and chose not to say anything about it. “Are you looking for Galavant again? He’s not here.”

“He never seems to be. I’m here for you, anyway.”

“Wonderful,” Isabella muttered. “What do you want this time?”

“Nothing,” Madalena said. “I’m just—bored.”

“And I’m supposed to help with that how?”

Madalena shrugged. Isabella, annoyed, kept tending to the food she had brought back and decided to ignore Madalena in the hopes that she would go away.

But of course she didn’t. “You aren’t curious at all about the sort of magic I learned while I was gone? The adventures I got up to?”

“Not really.”

“Hmph.” Madalena seemed cross. “What’s the point then, if no one cares?”

“Don’t you ever just do something for yourself, not for others?”

“Most things, actually,” Madalena said. “I thought you were well aware of that. But it’s nice to get attention for it.”

“Is that what you want? I’m sure there are a dozen other people who would be more likely than me to do that for you. In fact, I’m certain the last time we spoke before you disappeared for a year, I punched you in the face.”

“I don’t hold grudges,” Madalena said.

Isabella knew this to be an abject lie. “Of course you don’t.”

Madalena’s smile was disarmingly sweet and no doubt an utter deception. She looked around at the tomatoes on the table before her, and Isabella sorting them. “Is there some way I can help?”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course not. I’m deathly bored. It’s hard to find things interesting when you’ve learned some of the universe’s darkest secrets.”

“You keep saying that, and I’m going to deck you again,” Isabella said, but she was not serious. Maybe half-serious.

Madalena smiled at her again. She truly was very tall. She towered over Isabella, who had to crane her neck to look up at her with how close Madalena was standing. Which was omething that Isabella had always found attractive. Why did she keep thinking about that now? She had known her whole life that she fancied girls and boys, and being married did not change that, but this was _Madalena._ The woman who had broken Galavant’s heart and led an army to try and destroy Isabella’s family. Sure, that was all last season—or two seasons ago—but it still grated.

As if Madalena could read Isabella’s mind—and maybe she could, Isabella didn’t know the extent of what dark magic could do—she said, “I’ve always preferred women, you know.”

“Really?” Isabella wished she dared to take a step backwards, but she did not want to seem intimidated by Madalena. “Because I’ve never seen you with one. You surround yourself with men.”

“That’s hardly my fault,” Madalena said, stung. “You’ll notice that we’re the only two main female characters in this storyline, after all. That makes it rather difficult to meet women.”

Isabella had to admit that this was true. “There’s Bobbi,” she said, “and Gwen.”

“Who?”

Isabella held back the urge to sigh. “Right.”

“And since there is only the two of us,” Madalena continued, “we only have each other to be interested in, if we weren’t to date men...and there is really no way for us to be together without it being a cop-out. Forced.” She was looking down at Isabella.

“Ludicrous. A deus ex machina.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Madalena sounded hurt. Isabella hardly noticed, because she was staring up at her mouth. Madalena really was gorgeous. And she was her own person, without giving in to what anyone else wanted her to be. That was admirable. And somehow, dark enchantress was a look that really, _really_ worked for her.

Ah, the hell with it. “Screw continuity,” Isabella said. She stood up on tiptoe, put her hands on either side of Madalena’s face, and kissed her.

Neither of them was a gentle kisser; Madalena was every bit as intense and passionate as Isabella would have guessed her to be, and Isabella found herself responding in turn. Madalena’s hands dug hard at Isabella’s waist, dragging her close, and Isabella curled one hand in Madalena’s long hair and tugged. Madalena made a noise that was half-exasperated, half-intrigued, and swept her tongue across Isabella’s bottom lip, leaving her breathless. They kissed and kissed. Isabella forgot all about being restless.

After a moment—or several—Isabella stepped away. The color was high in Madalena’s face, her eyes bright, and Isabella knew she probably looked just as disheveled.

“Still bored?” Isabella asked, with an edge to her voice.

Madalena’s smile gleamed at her. “Oh, you wicked thing.”

Later, before Madalena left—with no promise of coming back any time soon, and Isabella did not expect her to—Isabella finally asked: “Your dark magic. What can you do, exactly? Besides break and enter?”

Madalena smiled. She was rebraiding her hair idly. “Oh, loads of things.” The amulet around her neck glowed. “Telekinesis, shapeshifting, mind control, if I’m a mind—even time travel.”

While Isabella stared at her, her mouth open, Madalena gave one last parting shot: “You aren’t a horrible kisser at all, by the way. The rumors are vastly exaggerated.”

And she left before Isabella could sputter a single word.

 

-

 

A few weeks later, Isabella and Galavant were outside enjoying the fresh sea air, looking out over their garden, when a large, familiar shape appeared on the horizon.

“Finally,” Galavant said. “They’re late.”

The dragon, dark-scaled, gleaming, awe-striking, swept down and landed upon the beach with a flutter of wings. Richard and Bobbi slid down from its back and walked over to Galavant and Isabella, holding hands. Tad Cooper, after spending a seven-month period as small as a lizard, had grown extraordinarily fast and could now even breathe fire. Richard was giddy with pride and excitement.

Richard and Bobbi told Galavant and Isabella all about running the seven kingdoms and Tad Cooper’s newest achievements (“He ate a whole sheep the other day! I’m so proud of my son.” “Richard, please....”). Isabella continued teaching Richard to garden, as she had been doing for the past few months, and Galavant and Bobbi started gathering things for dinner.

After stopping Richard from trying to plant an entire cake (“That’s how you get new ones, after all!”), Isabella found herself suddenly willing to ask the question that had been hounding her ever since she met Richard.

“Richard,” she started, slowly, hoping she wouldn’t offend him; “why _did_ you kidnap Madalena in the first place?”

After all, if he had not done so, none of this would ever have happened. She and Galavant would never have met, and Richard would not be the one true king to rule them all.

He sat back on his heels. “You know, that’s hard to say. I don’t think about it much—it seems like I was a whole different person then. I didn’t have Tad Cooper yet, or my Gal pal, or Bobbi.”

“Yes,” Isabella said patiently; “you wouldn’t have met any of us if you hadn’t kidnapped her.”

Richard sat in thought for a moment. “There was a woman,” he said finally. “I thought she was a dream, but now I don’t think she was. She told me I should find the village where Galavant lived and the most beautiful woman in the world there, named Madalena, and take her for my wife.” He touched his throat for a moment. “There was an amulet around her neck that glowed red. How strange, right?”

Isabella thought back to Madalena, the way her smile had cut like ice, how well dark magic sat upon her shoulders, the easy way she had admitted to being able to travel through time. “Yes,” she said. “How very strange, indeed.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
